


A Thousand Years of Love

by EiraofTheNorth



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiraofTheNorth/pseuds/EiraofTheNorth
Summary: "Lucifer do you believe in past lives?"He loves her. She loves him.Ten lifetimes.A thousand years of love.
Relationships: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34





	A Thousand Years of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I'm such a sucker for the "Multiple Lifetimes" trope and I've written some threads/hcs about it before on Twitter but never really wrote a full fic for it with Lucifer and Eira. So this fic is just me going out on a limb and writing a self-indulgent story for the ship that has my whole heart. I hope you guys enjoy it! <3 
> 
> I based this one-shot off my hc which can be found here.  
> https://twitter.com/ianabanana22/status/1312433857518473216?s=20

“Lucifer, do you believe in past lives?”

Lucifer looks up from his huge pile of paperwork, feather quill hovering in midair as he directs an inquisitive gaze at the small person before him. His face is impassive, save for the tiny twitch of his brow as memories flash in his mind like painful jagged pieces of a kaleidoscope, at the unexpected question. 

“What brought this on all of a sudden?”

“I guess … just pure curiosity? You guys are demons and you’ve lived for millennia now.” Her eyes sparkled with interest then, the same way it always had when something intrigued her so much and all at once Lucifer felt his heart warm with affection. 

“But has it ever occurred to you all if you’ve had lives before this one? What if you’ve had multiple lives and in each one you were someone different? Isn’t that magical?” She sat up straighter, buzzing with so much energy and it would’ve been cute if Lucifer wasn’t secretly gritting his teeth. 

“No I don't. This life is long enough as it already is.” He shuffles his papers and gives her a pointed look. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” 

A conflicted look passes over Eira’s face at his sudden gruff behavior but nevertheless rises from her seat. “O-okay. Sorry to disturb you. I’ll go then.” She turns to leave before quickly darting over to Lucifer and gently grasping his hand. “But don’t stay up too late ok? You need to sleep too.” Before he can respond, she’s dashing towards the doorway, leaving the scent of plum blossoms in her wake, the warmth of her touch still sending tingles up and down Lucifer’s arm. 

He leans against the back of his seat and tries to quell the thoughts haunting his head, thoughts that echo the staccato of his heart. Sighing harshly, he leans forward, takes an angry sip of the melancholy coffee, instantly recoils at the utterly bitter taste and then laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs until his laughter turns into guttural sobs that rack his body and the tears spill down his gentle cheeks. But of course. It was only a matter of time. 

Of course she loves him. She always has. 

For ten lifetimes now. 

His ancient mind flips through the memories, back to the “first her” he had ever met. He remembers who she used to be: elegant, refined, with an air of royalty around her, like every bit the Theban princess that she was. 

Hair dark as ebony, eyes the color of warm honey, skin pale as snow. She was _enchanting_. She has always been, the beauty mark adorning the bottom of her left eye further enhancing her features. And yet, there was always a hint of sadness in the depths of her gaze. 

“I’m never happy.” She tells him with a melancholy smile one day, as they stroll through the vast royal gardens. “Palace life is hard. And I never live up to anyone’s expectations, even more so my father’s.” 

She reaches out a hand to the endlessly blue sky. “If there is a next life, I wish to be a commoner, free to live my life, free to be who I am.” She glances to Lucifer then, her gaze holding a wisdom beyond her years. “I know what you are.” He turns very still, shock crosses at his usually composed face as he listens to her confession. “Worry not. I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.” Her gaze turns imploring then. 

“In return, would you be my friend?” 

So became her friend he did, and soon that beautiful friendship blossomed into something more. How could it not? They were each other’s confidante, each other’s better half. With him she felt understood, felt freer than she ever did confined within the palace walls. With her, he felt like he wasn’t Lucifer, The Firstborn, The Avatar of Pride with responsibilities as heavy as the world itself. 

He was just Lucifer. 

But alas, demons like him didn’t get their happy endings no matter how much they prayed. And he did. He pleaded she would be saved from a plague that left its victims deteriorating, their bodies crumbling away as it swept across their kingdom, one that even his demon powers couldn’t cure. He wished that she would smile for him again, instead of the grimace that marred her features as the disease took its toll on her. But it was all for naught. Pleading to his Father has never done him any good. Not once were his entreaties answered. 

His Little Snow passed away the same way snowflakes fell from the sky and melt on his fingertips: slowly and then all at once. 

Her passing left a gaping hole in his seemingly unfeeling heart. On the outside, nothing changed. He appeared to be The Avatar of Pride with his unfathomable and unfazed semblance of confidence that everyone admired and was slightly jealous of. But once he was in the confines of his own office, surrounded by a mountain of paperwork, all he felt was a despair that devoured him whole, chewed him up and then spit him out into this mess of a person who had lost his other half. 

A despair so intense he had to cast a silencing spell in the room so he could let out the screams of agony that tore through his throat as bitter tears kept streaming down his face. He had loved her with his entire being, and now that she was gone, he felt like a shadow of a person he used to be. And yet, even with the great temptation of throwing all of his responsibilities away, of renouncing his title just so he could drown himself in his grief, he didn’t. He couldn’t. 

And so he performed his duties as he usually did, amidst bouts of despondency and anguish. No one knew about his agony and he was fine with that. He’d be damned if he let anyone find out. Somewhere in-between all this, the pain from her loss eventually numbed down into nothing more than a bitter memory. 

***

“Good time of day Sir, a flower for a pretty lady perhaps?” The woman before him smiles as she offers him a single red rose and he feels his breath being stolen from his lungs when the diamond symbol on his forehead, hidden beneath a glamour spell, begins pulsing erratically. 

It had been centuries since her death. How was it possible that she was here right before him? In the city of love no less? Perhaps, this wasn’t  _ her _ ? He drags his gaze from the hem of her striped blue dress to the top of her head full of raven hair. 

No. It  _ was  _ her. It’s  **her** . His heart sings as he throws caution to the wind and tightly grips her fingers, the single rose immediately falling to the ground. 

“Eira!” He called out to her, love and affection tingeing his tone. She was here! She was alive and well! 

Oh, how he missed her!

A scandalized shriek breaks through his deliriously happy thoughts and he immediately finds her soft, supple hands being pulled from his grasp. 

“Sir, with all due respect, what you just did was... inappropriate. You seem like an aristocrat with your fine bearing and I may just be a lowly flower vendor, but I am still a lady.” She looks at him with defiance in her honey eyes and he’s taken aback at how foreign yet utterly familiar they look. 

“E-Eira, it is me. Lucifer.” 

“Pardon me, but do I know you? I don’t believe we’ve met before.” She looks at him with a mix of suspicion and confusion, and all at once Lucifer feels his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. 

_ No.  _

It’s Eira. But it’s not  _ his _ Eira. 

“Sir?” She asks him once more, this time with a hint of concern lacing her tone at his state of distress. 

Clearing his throat and his thoughts in the process, he straightens his cravat and then bows elegantly before her. “Please accept my deepest apologies, Miss. That was very unbecoming of me.”

Slightly perplexed, she places a pale, slender hand on her neck before nodding her head demurely. 

“Apologies accepted. Are you alright though, Sir?” Lucifer glances at her, perfect smile in place, not a trace of the frazzled man from earlier. 

“Yes, I am fine, thank you. I mistook you for someone I knew. The resemblance is...uncanny. But you are not her.” A hint of sadness bleeds into his smile, turns it slightly stiff and he clears his throat once more. 

“Anyway, I would like to have a flower, please.” Almost immediately she transforms back into a cheerful flower vendor, as Lucifer feels the corners of his mouth quirk up into a soft grin. 

“Of course, Sir! May I recommend red roses? They are lovely and fragrant, perfect for any occasion.” Then she shoots him a slightly playful grin. “And if you are giving them to your most beautiful lady, you are sure to win her heart!” 

Lucifer chuckles as he reaches into his breast pocket for 2 gold coins. “I will take your word for it. Give me a bouquet of red roses then.” 

“A wise choice, Sir.” She carefully wraps 10 exquisite stalks of the crimson flowers into a bouquet and hands them to him as Lucifer drops the gold coins into her small open palms. 

“Thank you.” 

“B-but Sir, this is too much!” She hands the coins back to him when he gently closes her palms around them. 

“Please take it. Consider it a tip for ensuring I win the heart of my beautiful lady.” And then she gives him a grin, one so bright and pure, like the sun itself has shone once more upon his dreary, dark life and at once he feels his heart come alive again. 

“O-oh, thank you, Sir! I wish you and your beautiful lady good fortune and happiness.” 

He shoots her an elegant smile that betrayed none of the giddiness he felt inside, tipped his hat and then said: “You are welcome. I am sure we will.” 

He has found his beautiful lady once again. And he’ll be damned if he let her go. 

And so with every trip to the Human World Lucifer would drop by her small side stall to buy a bouquet of red roses. It never mattered which country he was appointed to visit. Every time he returned home, he brought with him dozens of roses enough to fill the entire House of Lamentation with its intoxicating fragrance. His brothers were curious, yet they couldn’t bring themselves to ask him should they touch a nerve. 

Touching Lucifer’s nerve wasn’t too high on their to-do-list. 

Eventually, on one of his regular visits to her stall she asks him. “Sir, by all means I appreciate your patronage, but you have been to my stall multiple times now. Has your lady not accepted your love yet?” A mixture of worry and confusion was reflected in her eyes and Lucifer had to hold himself back from laughing. 

Oh if only she knew. 

There was no other lady but her in his eyes. 

Instead of giving a reply, he points to a single white lily. “Give me one of those.” 

“You want a lily, Sir? Are you not going for your usual bouquet of red roses?” She inquires, curiosity in her voice at his sudden choice. 

He gallantly grins at her. “I’ll have my usual too. I just thought an addition was in order.” She hums. “Hmm. I see. Well it is a great choice too. A lily means many things in different cultures.” She peruses through her selection of lilies and picks the most beautiful one. 

“In China they’re used at weddings as they symbolize 100 years of love, while the Ancient Greeks associated it with rebirth and motherhood.” She grins as she holds out the flower to him. “But ultimately it means purity and devotion. It is my favorite flower.” 

Lucifer stares at the lily in deep thought then smiles. He plucks the bud and places it behind her ear as she gasps in surprise. “Perfect.” He drops the two gold coins in her hand and takes pride at the blush staining her cheeks, carrying the roses she had prepared earlier. Then throwing her a slight smirk, he tips his hat and takes his leave. 

He may not have a beautiful lady at home, but at least he was able to give a lily to the most beautiful lady he has ever seen. The most beautiful lady, he will openly confess his love to the next time he sees her. 

But fate had other plans. On the day of his confession, he was shocked into stupor by a heavy news. “She was shot...” The elderly pretzel vendor next to her stall informed him tearfully, his kind features wrought with grief. “...It happened yesterday. Some hooligan was mugging a lady right over there.” He pointed a hand at the space a few feet before them. 

“Kind-hearted lass that she was couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, so she ran over to help. They got locked in a struggle and she ended up getting shot...” He was sobbing uncontrollably now and Lucifer, with every fiber of his being, was holding back the blood-curdling scream threatening to spill from his throat as his mind yelled **NO NONONONO THIS IS NOT HAPPENING**.

“There was blood everywhere… By the time help had arrived she had already bled to death...” 

The vendor wiped his bloodshot eyes with his sleeve and reached under his cart, bringing out the most gorgeous bouquet of roses Lucifer had ever seen. “She left this for you.” He held out the flowers as well as a plain white envelope. “Along with a letter. …Did you know she was an orphan? She had no one but herself to rely on and yet she still had such a resilient and pure spirit who stood up to injustice..!” The hand holding the items started shaking slightly and Lucifer quickly pocketed the letter, struggling to maintain his composure. 

He would NOT break down, especially before a stranger. 

Lucifer tipped his hat to him, muttered a quick thanks and went on his way, his heart growing heavier with each step he took. 

The trip back to the Devildom was swift. By the time he barged his way into his office and quickly locking the door behind, the familiar tears of grief and bitterness were already staining his cheeks as he felt his breaths constrict in his chest. Staggering to his seat, he gingerly reached for the envelope, tore it open, found a letter written in an elegant, cursive script and began reading. 

> _ Dear Sir,  _
> 
> _ By the time you’ve read this, I may already be gone. I don’t know why but I’ve always had the feeling my time in this world would be short. Still I didn’t want to leave without you knowing what I truly feel.  _
> 
> _ I love you Sir, deeply and truly. The first time we met, I was incredibly scandalized by your actions, but after you had apologized I could see the sadness in your gaze, one that spoke of bone-deep loneliness as if you had suffered for a very very long time. I was drawn to you then because I saw in you the same sadness that resided in me. Yet you remained ever gallant, gracious and kind. And I thought with a pang of bitter jealousy in my heart, of the beautiful lady you bought those red roses for and how lucky she was to have a man like you in her life. How wonderful it would be to have a love like that. Alas, love wasn’t for commoners like me, especially not orphans. Still I was content to see you whenever you bought the roses I had so lovingly prepared. I was satisfied enough to just see your face, to exchange a few words with you, to brush hands with you as I accepted your two gold coins. But there was one moment of weakness when I nearly gave in to my feelings. That day, when you slipped that white lily behind my ear. Oh how gentle your hands felt, oh how soft your smile had been. Was this what it felt like to be loved by you? _

Lucifer pauses from reading as he sucks in a painful breath, tears relentlessly falling and spots a single dark mark on the paper—a tear stain.

> _ Ah. I shouldn’t be crying. I should be at peace with this. Maybe in the next life. If there is a next one…  _

Lucifer chokes on a sob. 

> _ Nevertheless, as I end this letter, I wish you nothing but eternal bliss and love with your beloved. May you spend your days surrounded by the scent of roses, by infinite warmth and happiness, and treasure each and every moment you have with each other.  _

> _ With deep love and devotion, _
> 
> _ Eira  _

Another silencing spell was swiftly cast around the walls of the room and then it was filled with the first scream of anguish Lucifer let out in over a hundred years. 

Why? Why?! How could this happen... He loved her! And she loved him... Why couldn’t they just be together? What did they do to deserve this? 

_ How  _ dare  _ you ask yourself that Lucifer? Of course you don’t deserve anything good. The moment you rebelled against the Celestial Realm, you lost the right to feel happy.  _

Lucifer bitterly chuckles as the memory of the second life closes its doors. It has always been that way: they were fated to meet, the symbol on his forehead and the beauty mark under her eye akin to a red thread of fate that bound them together, that pulsed and glowed with a gentle hum of energy through every encounter. She forgets all memories of him and he has to reintroduce himself to her like some stranger. 

They fall in love over and over again. 

Her as a gentle witch in the woods selling herbs and stumbling upon “injured” him and nursing him back to health; as a helpful fairy who granted wishes and who granted his wish of being his “friend”; as the spunky shrine maiden who called him a dratted demon but whom, eventually, became his fiercest protector; as a tutor who “taught” him Human World culture; as a talented ballerina who danced her way into his heart; as a strict librarian who carried him into her world of books and knowledge and as the warmhearted baker with her delicious pastries that made him feel the comforts of love and home. 

And yet, they never end up together: she always, _always_ dies, be it a disease, a terrible accident or a horrible twist of events, leaving Lucifer to pick up the pieces of himself that get broken by her passing all over again. 

It has been a thousand years since he met the “first her”, a thousand years of love filled with misery and agony interspersed with brief moments of glee and euphoria. In those years, he wondered, contemplated, grieved, lamented about whether this vicious cycle was nothing but wishful thinking, acts of sheer folly on his part about something, someone he yearned but ultimately couldn’t have. There were times when he very nearly gave in to anguish and yet that tiny sliver of hope that he would meet her again held him back. That very same hope burned within him to this day, to “her” tenth life. 

Ten of her lifetimes in comparison to a single of his. Lucifer barks out a biting laugh. 

Oh what a fool he was. 

But the question was would he still continue to be a fool? Would he still dare to hope that something would change, the way he did for the past 9 of her lives? 

He leans his head against the back of his chair, closes his eyes and tries to find reason. Alas, his thoughts are filled with nothing but her, of her clear eyes overflowing with tenderness and compassion, of her gentle smile that held the promise of a bright tomorrow and of her heart that was filled with nothing but empathy and love. 

She had been a different person for ten lifetimes and yet one thing remained: her soul that was pure and emitted a gentle brilliance, one that he had been captivated by ten times over. One that he would admire as many times over. He would love her no matter what. 

He lets out one final sigh, squares his shoulders and saunters towards the door, his steps resolute, his mind focused with one destination in mind and it involves one petite lady with ebony locks and hazel colored eyes. 

A thousand years of love was a long time. A thousand years more would be a blessing. But a thousand moments with her, the “her” that was right here and now was what mattered most. And it begins right now. 

**Author's Note:**

> I might just write more for this trope. I love it so much and I think it fits Lucifer and Eira so much! I'm planning a sequel/spinoff to this one but through Satan's POV this time. As to why it's Satan specifically, well you'll see~


End file.
